


permanently see in reverse

by platonics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Altered Mental States, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Manipulation, Nonbinary Character, Other, POV Multiple, Psychological Drama, Unreliable Narrator, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: "I, ah, had a little problem with panic attacks for awhile...and a few other things too...um, nightmares, hallucinations, that kind of thing, because...reasons, and that's what Shirogane helped me with," Himiko explained delicately. "Except in hindsight she was probably trying to make things worse and only pretending to help."In Tsumugi's opinion, breaking her characters' spirits was one of the best parts of being the mastermind.





	permanently see in reverse

**Author's Note:**

> written for a challenge on dra, but also a lil prequel/tie-in of sorts for time loop au bc i'm too soft for it and have no other artistic talents :') <33 i can and will die for you

_I know drama’s been a little lower than you’d like since Akamatsu’s execution, but I just got a great idea! If you consult the cast members’ files, particularly the mental health assessments, you’ll find that [REDACTED] was found to be susceptible to [REDACTED], especially given the prior history at play with [REDACTED]. I’m confident in the strength of my writing, but past seasons have shown that repressed real-world memories can still affect characters’ behavior. Why not take advantage of that?_

_If all goes according to plan, Shinguuji’s current plotline should wrap up tomorrow. At that time, I’d like permission to tweak some of the simulation variables for Yumeno. Brief reactive psychosis has happened in past seasons even without direct interference, so with my encouragement, I’m sure it’ll make for good entertainment. With this being a longer season than usual thanks to my [REDACTED] plot, it’s just what the show needs._

_Kind regards,_

_Shirogane Tsumugi_

* * *

When she was a child, Himiko’s grandfather told her scary stories at night. Her grandmother always scolded him, saying he was going to give her nightmares, but Himiko protested, insisting that she wanted to hear more. 

In one story, dozens of people died in a horrible tragedy. Only a few managed to escape the carnage and survive, unable to forget the horrors they went through. However, many of those who had died were unable to move on, still bound to the mortal plane by the circumstances of their gruesome demises. Lonely and tortured, they sought out the survivors, haunting them. Those who escaped with their lives were forever reminded of those who weren’t as lucky, left to wonder if they could have done more to help.

Despite how young she was when she heard it, the story stuck with her. It sounded horrible, but at the same time, Himiko thought it might not be so bad, never having to be lonely. The ghosts didn’t necessarily have anything against those people specifically after all, so maybe they wouldn’t be cruel. As she grew older, she thought of it less and less, until she found herself in the midst of a killing game.

With every death she survived, Himiko wondered when the ghosts would come. Harukawa had them already, she thought, with the darkness in her eyes and her refusal to speak of her job to anyone but Saihara and Momota, and only then with prodding. Sometimes she had a shadowy gray aura, clinging to her like shadows or spiderwebs, but when Himiko blinked, it was gone. Nobody else seemed to see it.

Himiko thought that Saihara might have one too. He did such a good job helping everyone, and it was plain to see that he was becoming more confident, but whenever he looked at her, Himiko saw Akamatsu peering out from behind his eyes. 

On the worst day of her life, she felt something shift inside her. Angie, Chabashira, Shinguuji, all dead, and her in the middle of it, blood drying sticky on her clothes. Shadows curled up her spine and knotted themselves between her ribs, and Himiko thought that perhaps this was what expressing emotion felt like, even though the invisible fingers wrapping tight around her throat felt like just the opposite. When she started to tire of crying, the courtroom floor solid underneath her and the rest of the room tilting and spinning dizzyingly, the shadows loosened as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

She woke in her own room the next morning, still in her blood-stained clothes. It was a good thing she had more than enough spare uniforms, because these clothes were going straight in the trash. Head pounding, Himiko sat up with a quiet groan. Her room still looked the same as always, but the scent of incense was thick in the air. She made a face, glancing around, but there wasn’t even the slightest wisp of smoke to be found.

Maybe she was still just confused from yesterday. A hot shower would help. Himiko stretched and got out of bed with a quiet groan, shuffling towards the bathroom.

* * *

“Good morning!” As she entered the dining hall, Himiko smiled so hard it hurt. Chabashira had wanted her to let out her feelings, but she’d done more than enough of that last night. Any more moping wouldn’t do anyone any good. The incense smell had followed her all the way from the dorms, making her headache worse. It made it terribly difficult to focus on what Saihara was saying, that was for sure.

“Do you smell that?” she asked Shirogane, leaning closer to her so the others wouldn’t hear. Shirogane just looked confused, tipping her head to the side and giving her a searching look.

“Um, smell what, Yumeno-san?”

“I don’t know, something smoky. Like incense, you know? It’s really strong. Is this some weird prank of Monokuma’s?”

“A-ah, well, I’m just plain not sure about that...” Shirogane seemed nervous, darting glances all around the dining hall as if searching for someone else to help her. “I don’t smell it. Maybe you’re not quite awake yet,” she said, giggling softly.

“Yes, I am,” Himiko insisted. “I’m not imagining it. It seems familiar too, like I recognize it from somewhere, but I don’t know where.”

“Shinguuji-kun’s lab, maybe? I only went in there a couple of times, but I do remember it smelling like incense.”

“Maybe.” Some deep-rooted instinct told her not to confirm it outright to Shirogane, but that sounded right. It _was_ from Shinguuji’s lab. But...surely no one would have been there since their death the day before, certainly not for something as frivolous as burning incense. Himiko stared down at her breakfast, frowning. It was only Momota’s inquiry about whether she was feeling okay that reminded her to eat it.

* * *

_Thank you so much for your quick reply. I’ve already started implementing the changes (slowly at first, of course!), and I hope you’ll agree that they seem to be paying off._

_In regards to your question, the usual routine will do for Chabashira and Yonaga, but hold off on the memory wipe for Shinguuji. I believe the next phase of the season requires more direction than simply an audience poll as we originally discussed, so I’d like to keep my options open._

_Regards,_

_Shirogane_

* * *

Everyone started going their separate ways after breakfast, something Himiko was grateful for. She didn’t like the way the others had been looking at her, like she was something fragile that might be broken with a single word. She didn’t want to think about what happened, but it was impossible not to with everyone looking at her like that.

She wanted to go back to her room, but her legs took her to the fourth floor instead. Himiko tripped on her way up the stairs, and even though she’d caught herself before falling, she was sure she’d seen blood soaking the knees of her tights, just for a moment. 

The air itself felt oppressive on the fourth floor, her lungs closing in on themselves like a vise. She was a little out of breath as it was after walking all the way up from the first floor, but it felt like all she could do to get enough oxygen. Angie reached out from behind the wall, sinking her hand right into Himiko’s chest and pulling her ribs tight. That wasn’t very nice of her, Himiko thought, but she couldn’t make the words come out. She took hold of Angie’s wrist and tried to pull her hand out, but it didn’t budge at all. 

Just as she was giving up out of frustration, Shinguuji rounded the corner, sizing her up. After a moment, they seemed to come to a decision, and approached her. Much like Himiko had done, they grabbed Angie’s wrist, but nowhere near as gently. They twisted it hard, and Himiko heard the snap of bones breaking. The arm slithered back into the wall before she could see the damage, but she gasped all the same.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, horrified. Hadn’t they already hurt Angie enough?

“Whyever are you so upset?” Shinguuji looked genuinely puzzled, tilting their head. “No true damage was done. She isn’t real.”

“Neither are you.”

“Are you certain of that?” 

Himiko wasn’t sure how to answer that, so she didn’t. Instead, she continued down the hall, entering their lab. Shinguuji followed and didn’t try to stop her, so she decided it was probably okay to look around. As she looked around for the incense she knew she’d spotted somewhere, a knife caught her eye. Much like the infamous katana, it looked much more ornate than a normal weapon, set neatly in its display case. Without thinking, she reached out, picking it up.

“Are you confident enough in your beliefs to prove them?” Shinguuji sidled up from behind her, adjusting her grip on the knife’s handle without asking. Even through the bandages, their touch was warm. Himiko had always thought ghosts were supposed to be cold. And that they couldn’t physically interact with things, for that matter.

“What do you mean?” she asked. Selfishly, she wished that they’d touched her hand for longer.

“If I’m not real, stab me,” they invited, as deadpan as ever. “Nothing will happen, yes?”

“But...I don’t want to stab you.” Himiko shook her head and put the knife back in the display case. She surprised herself with how true it was.

“What happened to wanting revenge? Are you alright, Yumeno-san?” Before she could answer, the second question was repeated. “Are you alright, Yumeno-san?” This time it was in Saihara’s voice, which seemed strange until Himiko realized it was coming from the opposite direction. She turned around, and sure enough, Saihara was standing in the doorway. 

“...Huh? Uh, yeah, I’m fine. How long have you been standing there?”

Saihara frowned, brows creasing in concern. He took a single step into the lab, and looked like he wanted to continue approaching her, but he didn’t. 

“Not long. You seemed really deep in thought looking at that knife though. I was a little worried. Why are you in here anyway?”

“Just looking for something. Don’t worry about it.” It was hard to concentrate on speaking with the feeling of Shinguuji looming over her. They’d wrapped an arm around her, probably more mocking than anything, but Himiko leaned back into them reflexively. She couldn’t feel them breathing. Saihara didn’t bat an eye, surprisingly.

“Oh, did you already know they were here?” she asked. Immediately after the words left her mouth, she could practically see the gears turning in Saihara’s head. He looked around the room slowly, never once seeming to make eye contact with Shinguuji.

“Did I know who was here?”

“Shinguuji, obviously. Who else would I be talking about?” Shinguuji shushed her, but it was too late.

“Do...you think Shinguuji is here right now?” Saihara asked delicately, though the alarm on his face was very poorly concealed.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that ‘yes’ would be the wrong answer to that question. So instead, Himiko shrugged, giving a noncommittal hum. 

“Yumeno-san...”

“No, never mind. Forget it.” Face burning in embarrassment, Himiko rushed out of the room, nearly bumping into Saihara on her way out. Shinguuji wasn’t there anymore, and it felt far too lonely.

She headed outside next. Maybe some fresh air would help. 

* * *

“Don’t worry, Yumeno-san! Gonta will protect you, promise!” Gonta looked so earnest that Himiko would have felt bad if she disagreed. So she nodded, hugging her knees to her chest and leaning back against the sun-warmed wall of the school building. 

“Okay,” she said. Gonta was still searching the grass for bugs, and it was oddly hypnotic to watch. Before getting to know him, Himiko never would have imagined that someone like him could be so thorough in anything. “But...you don’t even want to know what it is I’m worried about? Anyone else would ask.”

“Of course Gonta’s curious, but you don’t have to say. Gentlemen aren’t nosy. Gonta can make sure you’re safe anyway, so please don’t be scared.” 

It was refreshing to spend time with someone who didn’t want to force her to talk about anything. So hanging around Gonta slowly became routine. Angie and Chabashira mostly didn’t visit when she was with him, and if they did, even the slightest sign of fear would have Gonta shielding her from any invisible threats, never once expressing doubt that what she saw was real.

Shinguuji, however, wasn’t dissuaded by anyone. It didn’t matter where Himiko was or who she was with. If they wanted to pay her a visit, there was no preventing it. 

Most of the time they just lurked near her, quiet and watchful. Other times, not so much, and not everyone was as blindly accepting as Gonta.

* * *

“Yumeno-san, is something wrong?” Shirogane’s urgent voice broke through her thoughts, wide, worried blue eyes gazing into her own. “Are you okay?”

Face hot with embarrassment, Himiko wiped her eyes with her sleeve, nodding. From the corner of the laundry room, leaning against a dryer, Shinguuji snickered. Reflexively, Himiko muttered an exasperated “Shut up” in their direction.

“W-what?” Shirogane asked, taking a step back. “I’m plainly sorry if I upset you somehow, Yumeno-san...I just came to do some laundry, and when I saw you in here crying...” She was hugging a stack of clothes to her chest, looking as if she might start crying herself.

“No,” Himiko replied hurriedly. “No, not you, I wasn’t...”

“It’s truly fascinating how you continue to make such simple mistakes, Yumeno,” Shinguuji remarked, barely glancing up from their nails. “She can’t hear me.” Smug bastard. Where did ghosts even get ghostly nail polish anyway, she wondered, glancing to the bottle sitting atop the dryer. Thinking about it made Himiko’s head hurt. They’d stopped using honorifics for her a few days ago, she’d noticed. It made sense when she thought about hands sliding along her sides, and uncovered lips against her neck, hazy and unclear in her memories.

Shirogane set her laundry aside and moved closer, taking Himiko’s hands. Her grip was uncomfortably solid, and Himiko fidgeted a little, not sure when Shinguuji’s almost-contact had started to feel more normal than real human touch.

“Please, talk to me. I’m really worried about you. I can’t even imagine how hard it is...you were the closest to Angie-san and Chabashira-san, after all. But I’d like to think we’re friends too,” she said. “If there’s anything I can do to help you...”

“Shinguuji’s haunting me.” The words burst out before Himiko could stop herself. She hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about what she was experiencing, and it was all getting more and more real. “Angie and Chabashira sometimes too,” she continued, quieter. “They’re actually scarier than Shinguuji most of the time, but they don’t show up much. I think they’re angry.”

She didn’t dare look over at Shinguuji after confessing all that to Shirogane, but she didn’t need to. Their anger was palpable, as if just their gaze could tear her to pieces.

“That...certainly does sound scary,” Shirogane ventured, adjusting her glasses. Himiko recognized the look on her face. It was the same way Saihara had looked at her a few days ago when he’d found her in Shinguuji’s lab.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Himiko scowled. “I’m telling the truth, I swear.”

“No, I do. I absolutely believe you. With all the strange things that have happened here, ghosts don’t seem that impossible.” Letting go of her hands, Shirogane pulled her into a hug instead. Himiko tensed up at first, but when it became clear that there were no ulterior motives, and Shirogane really was just trying to comfort her, she relaxed into it, eyes starting to prickle with unshed tears once again.

Without meaning to, she disintegrated completely. When she was finally able to calm down, breathless and shaky on the grimy laundry room floor (had anyone cleaned it since Toujou died? Probably not.), Himiko felt uncomfortably exposed. Shirogane had sat there, and rubbed her back, and murmured comforting platitudes, but that didn’t change the fact that she now knew far too many of Himiko’s secrets. Even Himiko herself wasn’t sure what all she’d let slip in her little meltdown. What she did know was that Shinguuji had vanished again, though the bottle of red nail polish remained, like some bizarre calling card.

Only after Shirogane finally loaded her laundry in a machine and left did Himiko dare to go fetch it. It looked perfectly solid, even casting a tiny shadow in the flickering fluorescent light. However, when she tried to pick it up, her fingers went right through it. 

* * *

Gonta was executed, and another layer of comfort was stripped away. Shirogane seemed to have a similar effect, at least. The ghosts came more frequently and more vividly whenever she wasn’t nearby. 

Shirogane was such a good friend, staying with her so often. She spent a lot of time writing in the journal she’d taken to carrying around, but that was alright. Just the silent companionship was often enough. Nobody else had even noticed anything was wrong, though Saihara still gave her uncertain looks now and then.

Shinguuji almost never left if Shirogane was present, now. They’d always been the least easily deterred, but it was beginning to border on absurd.

“She’s trying to kill you,” they said conversationally, sitting across from her at lunch. “Have you really not figured that out yet?”

“I guess you’re in good company then,” Himiko retorted. Shirogane never questioned it when she talked to Shinguuji. Himiko was grateful for that, since she felt bad whenever she had to ignore them. “You wanted to kill me too.”

“I won’t deny that, but Shirogane’s motives are very different from my own. She’s dangerous, truly dangerous, whereas for me, hurting you is now impossible.”

* * *

Upon finding out that there was no world to go back to, Himiko’s first thought was that now there was nothing stopping her from staying here with Shinguuji forever. She’d stopped wondering what that said about her.

Much like the others, she returned to her room and locked the door. Chabashira and Angie kept trying to get in. Himiko could hear them scratching against the door, and she wondered when they stopped being able to just walk through walls. 

“It’s your fault,” Chabashira called from outside. “You should’ve been the one to die.”

Shinguuji stayed close by when she opted to burrow under the covers, reaching directly through the blankets to run their fingers through her hair. 

Hours passed, or perhaps it was days. Shinguuji came and went, but much to her embarrassment, Himiko got more and more upset each time they left. Eventually they stopped leaving.

“We’re all going to die here, aren’t we?” she mumbled into her pillow. Shinguuji looked up from the book they’d been reading, eyeing her with something close to amusement. 

“Have you forgotten I’m already dead? It hardly matters to me. As for the rest of you, I don’t know. Either way, I’ll remain with you until the end, Yumeno.”

“Promise?”

“Certainly. Why wouldn’t I stay? I love you.”

For a split second, the world became clear. There was no way they’d say the words she most wanted to hear so out of the blue like that. Really, if Himiko was honest with herself, there was no way they’d say them to her _at all_ , but especially not like this. She hadn’t slept much, because whenever she did, she saw people dying. Maybe that was why everything seemed so strange?

“...You’re not real, are you?”

“I don’t believe I ever claimed to be. Does it matter? Does the fact that I’m not actually capable of having this conversation with you change your feelings?”

“Well...no, I guess not.”

* * *

_Yes, I agree with your assessment. The endgame seems to be fast approaching. Personally, I’d ramp up the social media promotion, remind fans of all the extra content we have for them this time around. Can’t have anyone tuning out thinking the season is over when it’s really just beginning!_

_Likewise, assure [REDACTED] that in testing, we were able to lower the rate of permanent brain damage from repeated memory wiping from 83% to only 27%. That’s an amazing achievement, and the legal department was especially careful with the contracts this year. There shouldn’t be any lawsuits from families, especially considering how generous payments will be._

_That said, please remind staff that erasure is NOT to be done on Shinguuji. We don’t need any more mistakes._

_Thank you,_

_Shirogane_

* * *

Soon enough, the days of inaction gave way to chaos once again. As scary as it was, Himiko was grateful for the distraction. Ever since their conversation about whether or not Shinguuji was real, they’d been around less often. Plenty of other strange sights and sounds continued, as did the nightmares and occasional crushing waves of panic, but not the comfort she wanted most. 

Every discovery marked a step closer to escape, but she could barely find it within herself to look forward to it.

Would all their lost friends be gone entirely once they left the academy? Himiko was afraid to learn the answer.

* * *

When Shirogane stood before them, almost unrecognizable in her Enoshima cosplay, all Himiko could think was that Shinguuji had been right all along. They’d told her that Shirogane was dangerous. And even before that, the real Shinguuji had suspected her all the way back in the first trial. 

Had she known for awhile now too? Was that how Shinguuji’s ghost had told her?

“That’s right!” Shirogane said cheerily, responding to something Saihara had said. Himiko could barely even keep track of what was going on. “It’s all fiction! But...” She trailed off, giggling. “For some more than others. Isn’t that right, Yumeno-san?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked quietly, barely louder than a whisper. She hadn’t felt Shinguuji’s presence even once throughout the trial. They’d left her alone after promising not to.

“What am I talking about? Hmm, I think you know that already, don’t you? But a brief explanation might be in order for the audience.” Shirogane paused for a moment, probably for the sake of drama. Himiko looked away from her, unable to bear it. “Yumeno-san thinks she’s been seeing ghosts, but that’s fiction too. It was all in her head, with a little help from me. All that time with Shinguuji-kun was a total lie!”

For once, Himiko was grateful about their lives being on the line, just so the others wouldn’t have much time to think about how pathetic she was.

Life would go on, somehow, but she had her doubts about whether these wounds would ever heal.

* * *

_Ratings were great today!! The fake audience trick went off without a hitch — the survivors actually believed they ended Danganronpa. I do hope I get a better execution next time, though. That was pretty lame, all things considered._

_I don’t have much time, but I just wanted to congratulate everyone on their hard work. I can’t imagine better assistants. Time for Season 53, round 2. Let’s make it even better, okay?_

_xoxo,_

_Shirogane_

* * *

With Saihara and Harukawa by her side, Himiko finally stepped outside the wall, and—

woke up in a locker.


End file.
